Days of Remembrance
by Zion iw ri W'ana
Summary: AU. Quinlan has lost his memory. He knows there's someone he must find and memories he must recover, but where does he start?


Author's Note: I've always wanted to write a Quinlan Vos story. He's one of my favourite characters and I was never able to get enough Legends material on him. So I figured I might as well just write one of my own (AU, of course). ! I hope everyone enjoys :)

 _"Who are we mistaking?_

 _But, you see it's not me_

 _It's not my family_

 _In your head, in your head_

 _They are fighting"_

 _-Zombies, The Cranberries_

I.

 _"Master Vos. Master! Please help me. I can't feel you through the Bond anymore, where are you? I need you, Master!"_

 _"Good to see you again, Quin!" A hand clasps his shoulder, a gesture of close friendship. "I heard you were on a mission to Nar Shaddaa, but…where's Aayla?"_

 _Screams in the dark, here and yet not here. The cries of beings close at hand and yet unattainable. He watches helplessly as the two Kiffar succumb to the vampiric tendencies of the Anzati, their screams reverberate through the hall and through his mind, and -_

He bolted upright, ragged breaths torn violently from his lungs. His mind was reeling; chaotic, broken fragments of memory tangled together to make panicked, nonsensical scenes. Who could tell what was memory and what was contrived in the absence of knowledge? After all, dreams did not guarantee truth but the unease they brought told him otherwise.

It was raining. The soft silver murmur of raindrops falling gently upon the forest floor sent up a haze of delicate mist that flowed between the tree trunks. He took a deep breath, attempting to calm the quivering tension running down his spine and along his limbs. Legs crossed over each other as his back straightened, eyes closed. "What do you know?" he murmured quietly. What _did_ he know? Very little indeed. He knew that, according to his dreams, his name was Quin Vos. He knew he was missed, that there were people who needed him. He knew that he had extraordinary abilities. He knew that he was missing almost every memory he had.

What didn't he know? A short, bitter laugh barked into the silence, startling a group of avians in the branches above him. It would be simpler to ask who had created the stars. He didn't even know what he looked like, for Force's sake, but that train of thought piqued his curiosity. Careful to avoid hitting his head on the low outcropping of rock that he had taken shelter under, he walked carefully along a slim path until he came across the small stream he'd crossed the night before. The raindrops distorted the surface of the water and it was difficult to make out a clear image. Deeply tanned skin framed a well-muscled figure. Long ropes of dark brown hair fell over his shoulders and into his face. His eyes searched the dysmorphic reflection, but the water was too disturbed to give any clearer details. His lips twitched in an irritated expression; he had known that much already.

He stalked back to the make-shift cave, moody and temperamental. His stomach growled, protesting the lack of food, but he ignored it. When had he last eaten? He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember anything, not even the name of the planet he was currently inhabiting.

 _Flame, smoke, ash. A burning building collapsing around him. He runs out, confused and disoriented, unable to remember anything beyond this one current point._

Dark eyes blinked and he swayed, suddenly dizzy at the memory. That had been yesterday. Whatever had happened yesterday had stolen his memories, but he couldn't remember what or who. He kicked a stone violently across the forest floor, shouting in frustration. How was he supposed to solve this if he couldn't remember anything? "Focus, Quin," he muttered, pacing, but the name sounded strange on his lips and it only served to discontent. Long fingers rubbed his eyes wearily as he tried to think. The first thing in his memory was that burning building on Nar Shaddaa. His eyes had opened and everything around him had been alight in flame. There was no memory before that, no knowledge of who he was or how he'd gotten there, only the instinctual acknowledgement of danger. He had bolted out, crashing through a window to land on a roof below where he'd been accosted by three Devaronians. It had been then that he'd realized his extraordinary abilities. As he'd fought his way through his assailants, he'd discovered his extensive combat abilities and his use of the Force. Far from reassuring him, the discovery had added to his panicked confusion and he'd fled, jumping on a shuttle transport and fleeing to the first planet it had landed on.

 _Stupid,_ he thought quietly to himself. He knew, intuitively, that he was not a man to panic. His mind was sharp, methodical, prone to laughing at situations and making a sarcastic comment if things were not going his way. _I should have paid more attention._ When the shuttle had landed, he'd headed straight out of the city, making for uninhabited territory in case anyone was looking for him. Fragments of dream flashed through his mind, making him uneasy. Someone needed his help, someone was relying on him. But…who? He felt an insistent nudge in that direction, but how was he supposed to help anyone if he didn't even know who he was? Agitation and distress began to weave its way into his consciousness. Whoever needed him was someone he cared about desperately and he needed to find her.

…Her? Something teased at his memory, something he could almost grasp, but he tried too hard to reach it and it slipped away. Without being able to say why, he was certain this elusive being was female and, indeed, the voice calling to him in his dreams had been distinctly feminine.

 _Master Vos! Please, Master, I need you!_

'Master'. So she was a student and he was her instructor. Of what? What was he supposed to be teaching her? His head hurt. Quin rubbed a temple distractedly and his stomach, again, rumbled its displeasure. He would be of no use to anyone if he didn't figure out where he was and find something to eat. He knelt down and sorted through the small pack that he had carried with him; a couple packs of dried rations, a small stash of Republican credits, a data-pad and a jacket. He pulled the jacket over his bare arms, noting the various scars and imperfections with passive interest before he reached for the data-pad. As his fingertips touched the cold surface, he -

 _"I don't see why we have to go," she stated bluntly, slim fingers playing at the tip of a blue lekku absentmindedly. He raised a dark brow at her, inviting her to go on and she threw her hands up in exasperation. "Well they're adults, aren't they? Shouldn't they be able to sort their own problems out?"_

 _He laughed, long and loud, wiping away a stray tear of mirth. "If that was the way things worked, we wouldn't be needed."_

 _"Well why isn't it the way things work? All our lives we're told to grow up and figure out how to sort our own problems and now we're here because evidently that doesn't actually happen!"_

 _"Sentient beings are inherently morons. That's something you'll learn as you get older. Adults aren't as wise as they would have you believe." He flicked through the data-pad, his amusement showing plainly on his face._

 _"Doesn't that include you?" she asked mulishly, slouching in the co-pilot's seat._

 _He raised his brow at her again and she blushed, the pink contrasting with the bright blue tones of her skin. "It must, if I've allowed my biting tongue to rub off on you. You're still my apprentice, which means I still rank above you. Unless you think you're ready for the Trials, oh wise one?"_

 _She blushed again. "No, not by far. I'm sorry, Master. I spoke out of turn."_

A breathless gasp escaped his lips as he let go of the data-pad. It took a moment to re-orient himself, but then he grasped at it again, greedily hunting for another flash of memory, but none came. A low, anguished cry sounded as disappointment reverberated in his soul. That had been _her_ , whoever she was. He knew what she looked like, what she sounded like, but _who was she_? He activated the data-pad and attempted to access it but it asked for a key code and none came to mind, no matter how long he touched it, demanding in vain to be shown the necessary information to unlock whatever mysteries it held.

The effort it took to _not_ fling the data-pad across the forest was enormous, but he fought with all the self control he had and stiffly put the useless object back in the pack, which he swung up onto a well-muscled shoulder. He looked around, noting this area in position to the town that he had landed in the night before. It was well enough hidden in case he needed to come back. He flipped the hood of the jacket up against the soft drizzle of rain, his dark hair falling over his shoulders as he started to walk.

It took the better part of an hour to reach the small town he had landed in. It didn't appear to be of any great import, just a small shipping and trading station. The rain had stopped by this point and there were vendors out trading their wares; the loud bartering and proclamations of goods grated on his piercing headache. He ambled over to an older Evocii haggling with a t'landa Til for the price of his overripe fruits. Quin found, to his distant surprise that he could understand the Huttese that they were using to argue heatedly and he buried that information away for future perusal.

"Excuse me," he muscled through to the front, interrupting their exchange. "I was on Nar Shaddaa last night and I got exquisitely drunk. Where am I?"

The t'landa Til snorted with abrasive laughter while the vendor scratched his balding head. "What kind of moron loses his senses like that in the middle of Hutt Space?" he asked incredulously.

"A moron who had too much to lose," Quin drawled, making a show of anger. "I got robbed for everything I was worth and suddenly I woke up here with a pounding headache and nothing but what you see on me. Now I don't know much, but I know this isn't Nar Shaddaa."

"Well you're right about that," the vendor replied, leaning back. "This is Nal Yeshu. You must have been thrown into that shuttle transport that came in last night. You're lucky to be alive!"

"Yes, I dare say I am," Quin mused, half to himself, but his thoughts were interrupted by the Evocii's next question.

"What's a Kiffar like yourself doing in this part of the galaxy, anyways?" There were threads of suspicion in his voice. "We don't get many of your kind out here."

Kiffar? He supposed he must be. Keeping his surprise to himself, he continued his act of drunken moron. "I uh….well as embarrassing as it is, I was trying to get back what I'd lost through gambling. My girl kicked me out back on Naboo for losing our money. I tried Takodana first with no luck, then figured what did I have left to lose? So I went to Nar Shaddaa to see if I'd get better luck and..well…you know how that ended up."

"Du stupa wermo." The t'landa Til snorted with laughter again and Quin feigned ignorance to the insult.

"Well thanks for the information. I suppose I'd better go back and try to reclaim my stolen items."

"You're better off just cutting your losses. Chances are you'll just end up dead if you go back there!" the vendor warned. "Nar Shaddaa's…well, you know how it is. Dangerous crooks and murderers aplenty and - " Another humanoid walked up to the stall to look at the fruits with a dubious expression and he became distracted again, allowing Quin to slip away quietly, a stolen fruit hidden in his pocket. He turned a corner to eat the fruit in safety, chewing absent-mindedly as he thought about his situation. It was clear he couldn't stay here, but without more information, he didn't know where to go. He had only one goal in mind - to rescue the young Twi'lek from his shoddy memories. The difficulty lay in identifying her and, in turn, himself. How was he supposed to rescue someone he had so little recollection of. He sighed in frustration and went to go track down the flight plans of the shipping lanes.


End file.
